Soliloquy
by GenericOregairuFan
Summary: I love you. You must know that, right?


**AN: Just an idea that popped into my head. I decided that I liked it enough for publishing, so enjoy, I guess.**

* * *

**Soliloquy**

I love you.

You must know that, right? Surely you know.

It's so stupid, because it seems so ridiculously obvious to me. It's humiliating how obvious it is. You understand that, right? Being humiliated. That's something we both have in common. We've both been humiliated. I remember all of the times that I've been humiliated- there have been a lot, Yukinoshita Yukino. You know that, right? Or do I have to spell that out for you too?

Okay, well, it's worth a try if by some sky high miracle you eventually come to know or understand or whatever: let's see, there was the time when my schoolbag went missing and I had to buy a new one and get loads of new schoolbooks but then the day I came in with the new stuff I noticed it at the bottom of the school pond, and there was the time that I tripped over near a girl whose names escapes me and everyone spread the rumour that I was a pervert who looked up skirts when I really just tripped over, and then of course there was Orimoto and all of the emotional bullshit that tailed on from that and is, let's face it, still kinda tailing on from that.

But you understand this, right? None of them come close to this. This a whole new breed of humiliation, right? This is basically a new species- a whole new evolutionary chain. This is Darwin level shit. You understand that, right, Yukinoshita Yukino?

You should know that I didn't love Orimoto. Obviously. Is it even possible to love someone at that age? Excluding the platonic, the love of a sister or a mother or the puppy eyed "love" for a pet, I mean. You don't have a reason not to understand that, right? I was a middle schooler- of course I didn't love her. It was just me playing a playground game- like tag or some crap like that, only here I was chasing this other piece of crap called "love", this profoundly retarded _thing _that I obviously wouldn't be able to tag because I'm just a middle schooler and I can't run fast enough and love is always about five miles ahead of me. No one can tag love, right? I couldn't tag love.

Really, it ends up being the other way round. One day, you realise that _you're _the one whose about to be tagged, and you were never chasing at all but being chased, and you were dumb enough to think that you weren't. The joke's on you again. In love, the joke is _always _on you.

You understand that, Yukinoshita Yukino. Right?

It's obvious.

I love you.

I fell in love with you so quickly. I guess it was just a crush at first, but let's face it, I never stood a chance at all, from the moment I walked into the Service Club room, because to be brutally fucking honest, you look like an angel or a nymph or something along those lines. You must know that. What do you think when you look at yourself in the mirror? Jesus christ, you must fall in love with yourself every time, right? It's probably an inconvenience. You'll just be getting ready for bed or school and you'll see yourself in the mirror, and you'll fall in love with yourself all over again and you'll hate it, it will be the worst part of your day, because you're procrastinating your homework because you're too busy falling in love with yourself. Wow, being that beautiful must be really inconvenient, right Yukinoshita Yukino? Not only do I have all these boys falling in love with me, but it's _also _impossible not to fall in love with myself.

I don't understand how it could be any different.

I fall in love with you every time. It doesn't even have to be a reflection for me, Yukinoshita Yukino. It just has to be you. I'm chained in your hair, you know, and I'm manacled in your eyes, I'm caught inbetween, I'm weaving out, I'm weaving in and all the while you'll just carry on sitting there, in your immaculate uniform, and your immaculate uniform_ness_, with every little part as beautiful as the next.

I just never had a chance.

I love you, right?

I feel like I'm repeating the same old tired and weary joke, over and over again. I'm like a comedian who doesn't know the appropriate time to finish his set, and all the guests are really done with his prattling and kinda just want to go home at this point. I love you. I'm looking at you every day in the Service Club, and you're sitting just across from me, on the other side of the table, and I love you. We drink tea and I love you. We read a book and a light novel and I love you. Yuigahama Yui makes conversation about the weather and I still love you, you know that, right?

It's in my eyes. My eyes are saying "I love you". Every glance is my confession, okay? From now on, just understand that if I glance at you when I think that you're not going to notice but you probably are, it means that I love you. You just need to know. It doesn't really matter what your response would be, although I in no way want to think about that and am going to force myself to think another thought before that can actually come to mind. Oh, here's one: I love you. Put more formally, because I know how much you love formality, I am in love with a girl named Yukinoshita Yukino.

I love you.

I can think it, and I can see it.

But I never say it.

Never.

At the end of the day, this is just another soliloquy. Just another monologue from the bottomless pit of a brain that belongs to Hikigaya Hachiman.

But I love you.

You must know that, right?


End file.
